The weather that fall was terrible; well actually, it was just a little worse than normal. We were in a hunting camp in the mountains about one hundred miles North of the Peace. There were three guides with three hunters. Knarley Manners my best friend had a nice quiet hunter that was serious about hunting and wasn’t worried about the cold, miserable conditions. I had one of a pair of hunters from Chicago: the two of them had won the hunting trip through a company contest and they were as different from each other as two men can be: my hunter was a former small game hunter who had grown up on a farm in Illinois, this was the trip of a lifetime for him and he wanted to have a successful hunt. The other hunter was a huge man, he stood at least 6 foot 6 and weighed way over three hundred pounds: he was as out of place in the mountains as a person can be and never stopped complaining or telling us of his personal accomplishments. Hunting was not his way to have fun; but he won the trip and was determined to take advantage of the prize, even though he hated every minute he was there.
He was quite proud of himself to the point of being arrogant. He would have taken over the whole camp and passed out orders to everyone, except in these conditions, he knew nothing, I was in charge and I wasn’t about to relinquish control over to this arrogant giant who tried to convince us that he knew everything. Since he couldn’t give orders, he made do with complaining about the weather, the food, his saddle, the fact that we had not seen game (that’s why they call it hunting), the sleeping arrangements, and his horse. I used the biggest pack horse we had, Ol’ Moose, because our favorite hunter – who became known as Mr. Big – couldn’t ride a lick and I didn’t want him hurting one of the smaller horses. Because of the constant complaining, I put him with John Belcourt; John was a Chips Indian and a good sized giant himself. John was always cheerful and would never let this guy’s attitude get to him. Neither would John be intimidated by the size of the surly one, for if there was a guy who could wrestle a Grizzly bear, it was John. He was as strong as 4 or 5 strong men and could move like a cougar.
He was helping me log some years back and we were standing on a log deck about 30 feet high and thirty feet wide; we were talking and counting logs when the deck started rolling, I turned and ran toward the end to jump while scrambling over the moving logs thinking that poor John wouldn’t be fast or nimble enough to make it off the deck and he would be crushed between the fast moving logs. He passed me while I was running and looked at me with a big grin on his face and asked if I was going to make it: I shook my head yes and yelled out “yes” while scrambling over the wildly moving logs. He sprinted to the end twice as fast as me and made a big jump to safety and had time to turn around and watch me scramble off the rolling death trap. John was not a guy who would be intimidated by an arrogant phony.
At dinnertime, between the complaints, we heard all about Mr. Big’s house, his importance at his office, of his golf country club, of how he was a scratch golfer, how the women at the office all went out of their way to do special things for him, he had the best cars, the best rifle, the smartest kids and truthfully none of us could care less; but he had this overwhelming desire to impress us with his success and image.
When the temperature drops and the rain turns to snow and ice, the real personality of your companions will begin to show. Our big man from Chicago was becoming even more belligerent as the temperature steadily dropped. John always kept a smile on his face while his hunter complained unceasingly about the weather, the hunt, and the fact that John didn’t care what he complained about.
John took his hunter out one morning and after they were gone for a couple of hours the fog moved in; now, when the fog comes in, you can’t move in the mountains, because you are likely to walk off into the middle of nowhere or at least take a fast trip down a mountain for a 1,000 or more feet. When there is thick fog you sit down and wait it out; even it takes three or four days, better to wait than be dead.
The fog had us ’socked in’ for 48 hours. John didn’t return with Mr. Big, his hunter and the camp was actually enjoyable; I wasn’t worried, John could take care of someone for the whole winter, if necessary.
Two days later John walked into camp with a mad hunter who was demanding I cook a meal immediately, because he was starving: I started a meal, this is a service industry and we are supposed to cater to the customers.
I asked John what happened to our hunter to get him from being merely a miserable personality, to being a really mad personality.
He told me that once they were stopped by the fog, he shot two nice grouse, (the size of small chickens) with an air pistol he kept for such emergencies. He packed the birds in mud and roasted them in the fire; but the hunter didn’t want to partake since the birds had just been packed in mud like a potato instead of being plucked and gutted in the white man’s fashion. John knew the feathers would come off with the head and feet when he broke the hardened mud covering after baking the birds for 30 minutes or so. John was surprised when the hunter refused his share of the meal; so John ate both the birds.
John told me he made a nice shelter in a dry creek bed. The floor was lined with spruce boughs with a tarp over the top. It was designed so that the two men’s bodies would warm each other because of the close quarters. Mr. Big refused to crawl into the small emergency tent until the temperature dropped to twenty below; he then decided that sleeping next to the big Indian might not be such a bad idea after all.
Despite John’s efforts at saving Mr. Big‘s life, Mr. Big entered camp with a profound dislike of John and insisted that John leave camp and that he wanted a White Man to guide him for the rest of his hunt. I started to tell Mr. Big that most of the residents in the Peace were at least part Indian and that Knarley and I had more Native blood than John; but it was hopeless to even try. John looked like an overweight Indian and he fit the negative stereotype of Mr. Big mind, thus he was an Indian and a lesser person. Now this presented a problem, if John left camp, he could walk to base camp in a day and send back another guide; but we were talking about a two or three day period with three hunters and two guides, if there was another hunter at base camp that looked like a White Man. The lengths you must go to serve the prejudicial nature of some people.
I figured I could handle the situation and wrote out a note for John to give to our boss, explaining the situation. John thought the situation was humorous and took off through the timber at a pace that was just a wee bit slower than a marathon runner. I watched him until he disappeared and marveled at the strength and stamina of the big man.
I made a nice meal of eggs with onions, huckleberry pancakes, and chopped potatoes with bacon and coffee; Mr. Big’s spirit lifted and he said he would like to try and get a moose later on that day.
He was tired; but he seemed to be back to normal and a guide is supposed to cater to a hunter, at least, to a certain point.
We rode to within a half mile of a lick that would surely have a moose show up that afternoon. I picketed the horses and we walked toward the lick. On the way in, there is a trail crossing that left good vision from a hill down four trails for at least a quarter mile in each direction. I instructed Mr. Big in whispered tones to watch the trails for an hour while I took his partner in to the lick; game would be using the trails and he had excellent visibility and with the lick a few hundred yards away, he would have an excellent chance for a moose or elk. I told him not to leave this area, no matter what; if I heard a shot I would be over right away to take care of the animal. He nodded his head yes and I took his friend in close to the lick and we waited at a natural blind.
I sat with the second hunter for an hour in complete silence, we saw a cow moose and her calf come into the lick, the hunter picked up his camera and took some great shots at about forty yards. He was pleased to get the shots and was happy to be seeing game. After the cow and her calf walked away, I motioned that I needed to check on Mr. Big and I left him at the lick.
I walked to the trail crossing carefully, thinking about Mr. Big standing there with a rifle and his problem of being overly self-conscious, I was a little apprehensive myself after considering the possibilities; people can sometimes become spooked waiting for someone in total silence, especially, if they are accustomed to being in control.
I broke cover and called out Mr. Big’s name; however, there was no one around; when I walked into the open and called out with a louder voice, there was still no hunter. I looked down each trail; but there was no hunter to be seen. This was bad, this was really bad, there are no street signs out there and the likelihood of seeing another human being is slim and none; in other words, if I didn’t find this guy, he was dead meat in 24 to 48 hours and more than likely we would never find his body, because the animals would have it eaten and the bones scattered within a few days.
I walked down each trail looking for sign, the man was big and heavy, he would leave a good track in soft dirt; although the ground was quickly freezing. I finally found a track in the semi-frozen mud near a warm water spring. He was traveling West and in a hurry; the tracks were spaced over four feet apart, that meant he was almost at a run.
I was following the tracks and becoming more apprehensive at the speed this guy was traveling; then I saw his rifle and parka on the side of the trail. The situation was disintegrating by the minute; he had obviously lost his mind and had taken off his jacket and thrown away his expensive Browning Magnum. I took the rifle back to the spot I had picketed the horses and hid it; I didn’t want a crazy man getting a hold of a rifle. I saddled my horse and took off at a trot to the trail. At the speed he was traveling, I was going to have trouble catching him; because I had to travel slow enough to look for and read sign.
My horse and I passed the parka and soon we were passing other articles of clothing; I’d heard of this before, when someone loses their sanity they will often take off their clothes and run naked. This is a sure way to die in the mountains; but I think at this point they are long past the ability to use reason. Eventually, he stopped to take his boots and socks off; his trousers and long johns were scattered about the same area and that meant he was now completely nude, as naked as the day he was born and still running like a mad man. He wasn’t likely to leave anymore sign with out his hard sole boots and no more clothes or weapons to throw away, so I put my horse in a lope and hoped he didn’t stray from the trail. The last sign I had see had an eight foot stride, I didn’t think that was even possible, the guy was a runner, I’ll give him credit for that; a horse only has a 12 foot stride at a canter; I don’t know how fast he was traveling, but he was in high gear that’s for sure.
I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing at the ridiculous situation; I was on a horse chasing a huge naked man who was a big time business man in Chicago- he had already run several miles and showed no sign of slowing down. My horse was in a lather and starting to get tired of this pace at this altitude. I used the heel of my moccasins and asked my horse to pick up the pace a notch.
My horse was really tired and her lungs were laboring to keep up with the pace I was asking of her. I was beginning to wonder whether it was worth killing the horse to catch this bastard, when I saw my naked man; he was about a quarter of a mile ahead of me, running up a mountain with sharp rocks for footing instead of dirt. I figured the sharp rocks would slow him down; but he kept running without noticing that his feet were being cut to rag dolls.
The trail was a blood trail now, I put my horse in a gallup and caught up to him. Riding along side of him, I yelled, “Heh! Heh! Do you want to stop, we need to talk.”
He never even looked at me, he just kept running. I urged my horse up ahead and jumped off to face him, he kept running and I was beginning to think he was going to run right over the top of me. He wasn’t slowing down! I pulled my saddle horse to me and turned her so that if he was going to run into us he would have to meet her hind shoes and I am sure that they would stop him, if they didn’t kill him.
He stopped before he ran into the horse, I turned the horse away and tried to talk to Mr. Big; but he was blathering on in a non-sense kind of language and drooling at the same time. I couldn’t help but think of the story in the bible of the Tower of Babel. He began slapping me in the chest with his hands to emphasize his bizarre speech and I started to worry over my own safety. Since I was only a teenager and had not yet attended school to take a class in psychology, I decided the only thing to do was to hit this monster a good one to try and ‘knock some sense into him’.
My dad had boxed in the Navy and he had taught me the fundamentals of how to hit; but I had never punched anyone in anger. I decided that I was going to need to hit him as hard as I could; because if he decided to tear me apart, I might need to shoot him to keep from being hurt.
I threw an overhand right to his jaw like I was swinging an ax and he fell to a sitting position. He wasn’t knocked out; but he was stunned and thankfully quiet.
I tried to talk to him, but no one was home; eventually, I led him by the hand back the way we came and made him put his clothes back on at each spot; truthfully, I had to help him get dressed, like helping a small child.
I was glad that Knarley didn’t see this and take a few photos; I would have been humiliated for years with pictures of me leading a naked giant and a horse through the mountains.
His friend was quite upset that his hunting trip was over, merely because his partner had suffered a nervous breakdown; but someone had to fly with him back to Chicago. And they had to leave, because I didn’t want any Looney tune types near the rifles.
Years later, I asked the outfitter about Mr. Big’s fate and learned he had never been the same, he didn’t recover, and never worked again.
I have thought about this incident many times over the last 45 years: asking myself what I could have done differently to have avoided the situation. Even though Mr. Big had a superiority complex and was arrogant to the point of being obnoxious; he still had a family that depended on him back in Chicago.
I eventually determined that if a man is considered a special man with authority and he doesn’t really have the moral integrity that is normally considered part of the process of becoming a leader; in other words if he unqualified for a position of leadership, he must adopt a false sense of arrogance to compensate for psychological shortcomings. This sense of arrogance can be interpreted as Narcissism; unfortunately, the greater the moral and intellectual incompetence coupled with an even higher position, the greater the sense of arrogance and Narcissism will be exhibited. Mr. Big was put in a situation that caused his extreme lack of confidence and poise to overwhelm his false sense of arrogance and Narcissism. Thus when he was tested for an hour on his own, in a condition where he couldn’t relate and reaffirm his sense of accomplishment and superiority by belittling others, his arrogance fell apart leaving little more than a blubbering weakling.
In 2008, we elected a person to the presidency who has no experience and seems to need to qualify his personal inflated view of himself as a superior individual, a view that was bestowed on him immediately by the MSM with no authentication or records to qualify those opinions, he none the less played the role with arrogance and Narcissism on a daily basis. With only vague and dubious claims of superior intellect, claims that can’t be substantiated because of a lock down of previous intellectual records, a move that is even further compromised by the ever glaring possibility of Affirmative Action acting as a greased path of least resistance throughout the academic world. Thus instead of having a great intellect as once vaunted by the MSM, the great intellect has become circumspect by the unavailability’ of academic records and the inability to speak without a teleprompter.
The term narcissism is a myth that has been handed down from the ancient Greeks: Narcissus was a handsome youth who fell in love with his own reflection. In those ancient days and today, Narcissism is only a problem when the traits are so profound that they interfere with an individual’s social and work life. Diagnosed as Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) it can, in extreme cases of self-obsession, become serious enough to be termed Malignant Narcissism:
What is Narcissistic Personality Disorder?
The DSM-IV-TR, a manual that psychologists use to diagnose NPD and other mental disorders, explains that NPD is a type of psychological personality disorder characterized by grandiosity, need for admiration, and lack of empathy. Narcissism occurs in a spectrum of severity, but the pathologically narcissistic tend primarily be men (75%) who are extremely self-absorbed, intolerant of others’ perspectives, insensitive to others’ needs and indifferent to the effect of their own egocentric behavior. NPD is one of a cluster of loosely-related personality disorders (Borderline PD, Antisocial PD and Histrionic PD), all based on dramatic, emotional or erratic behavior.
~~~How Is Malignant Narcissism Different from NPD?
Otto Kernberg MD, a legendary thought leader in the study of personality disorders, originated the term “malignant narcissism” to describe a syndrome of narcissism that went beyond Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). Malignant narcissism is like NPD on pathological steroids, manifesting additional antisocial features, paranoid traits, and ego-syntonic aggression. Kernberg believed that malignant narcissism was part of a spectrum of narcissistic behavior; ranging from NPD, at the low end, to malignant narcissism, and with psychopathy representing the high end of narcissistic severity.
When President Obama spends over seventeen minutes to answer a simple question about a worker concern of being over taxed, he clearly has little empathy for the people he is addressing and is showing an indifference to the effect he is having on his audience with his egocentric behavior. Although some people tend to brush off the President’s penchant for appearing on talk shows as a lack of class and etiquette many more are realizing this as another symptom of Narcissism. President Obama has given 222 speeches since he was sworn in, he is obviously overly competent in his ability to still mesmerize voters with his speaking skills; however, many are growing tired of the Obama constant harangue and feel the President is speaking to hear himself talk. This tactic has worn thin with many voters and again the President exhibits symptoms of Narcissism
President Obama’s willingness to court favor with Communists, despots, leaders of terrorist supporting nations, and dictators while ignoring and insulting our traditional allies, against the will of the American people, is another symptom of the Narcissist who totally ignores the feelings and wishes of others and continues on with their own egotistical behavior, oblivious to the damage that their irrational behavior might conclude.
Hopefully, Mr. Obama will be able to serve out the next two years without a confrontation as traumatic as Mr. Big’s; the thought of a President having a nervous breakdown is a sobering thought. In a few months, Mr. Obama will be relieved of his Senate and Congressional majorities; hopefully, he can weather the disappointment and settle into the position of being less of a dictator and more of a President.
A professional horseman for over 50 years, Skook continues to work with horses. Skook has finished an historical novel, Fifty Thousand Years, that traces a mitochondrial line of DNA from 50,000 years ago to the present. The story follows a line of courageous women, from the Ice Ages to the present, as they meet the challenges of survival with grit and creativity. These are not women who whimper of being victims, they meet the challenges of survival as women who use their abilities without excuses or remorse, these women are winners, they are our ancestors.
Fifty Thousand Years is available in paperback and e-book, it is getting great reviews. You can purchase a copy here; Visit me on Facebook.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Dylantheauthor
Skookum,
I saw this syndrone in officers in Iraq. During peace time, these officers excelled and were often promoted below the zone. In Iraq under combat conditions, they seemed to cling to things that were comfortable to them like timely meetings and reports that were flawless. In the mean time, our organization would have been unsuccessful in our mission if it were not for those who stepped up in difficult situations.
No one tore off their clothes in Iraq although I did hear about a Warrant Officer wandering around Al Dujayl in his underwear!
You remind me of my Uncle Burt. I use to sit at his feet and listen to his WWI stories for hours when I was a kid. I am collecting stories for my book as you suggested!
Randy
I don’t know about anyone else, but the way you write and explaining your history and relating it to the current is completely superb . I would hope you write a memoir, it would be an excellent read. Unless of course you have one already; point me in the direction to find it.
Yup.
The question which we all fear:
how long with the clattering clique of drooling enablers be able to cover for this fraud?
The national situation continues to deteriorate.
The American people are not all fools. Individuals are certainly able to discern for themselves that the economy is NOT as reported in the Main-Stream Media. Unemployment is far higher than the reported 9.7%. There is no recovery. The ash cloud over Europe has what result–the dude goes golfing?
He dares no press conferences because his handlers will not allow it. Who IS in charge?
We are getting news reporting which is, basically, Pravda (West).
The Master of the Teleprompter simply reads what is put before him. He is not able to distinguish the Declaration of Independence from the Constitution. He is not able to answer the most straightforward question in a simple and factual way. He has no idea of now an economy works; his sole “documented” activity has been in government and NGO activities. I say documented advisedly, because such encomiums as his law degree Magna Cum Laude come with the asterisk of no documentation.
In all of my employment I have been required to provide written records of my qualifications.
But Obama has no paper trail.
The man is out there on point; there will come a time when all of his handlers are sucked away on some crisis, and another crisis will emerge (think a nuclear detonation in Kabul or Baghdad); think of the writings of Tom Clancy.
There is no longer any question that he will lose it. He may have already done so once; he stole away from the WH without his press flaks once already.
@Skook, again all I can say is “another job well done”.
Skookum – thanks for a great post.
Awesome Skook!I’ll buy your book,got one?
Skook,
Have you ever heard of the Darwin awards? I think you were interfering with nature.
Too many words…
I suspect he will do one of two extremes, no middle ground of sanity. He will either remain in complete denial about reality and therefore remain arrogant or he will have a crisis as did Mr Big and come completely apart. Not a pretty sight either way. His ego is pretty strong and well established as it had gotten him this far. He probably won’t change much.
Been a sobering thought of late, wondering how pressure affects those in power. In the case of Mr. Big, I am still baffled by his determination to be a “fish out of water”, especially since he had no desires to leave the pond to begin with. But perhaps he was a braggard prior to winning the “prize”, and left himself no out.
INRE your always stellar “… and the moral of the story is….” moment with current times, that 17 minute run-out-the-clock moment of Obama’s set me to thinking when many suggested he was headed off the deep end. Was that a nervous reaction?
Or was he making sure he not only diverted from the question sufficiently, but left no time for other uncomfortable questions? That would be deliberate, and would indicate he was very much in control. He’s likely to be sure there are few pundits that dare to interrupt a droning on POTUS.
I’ve concluded Obama’s not losing it. One would have to assume he’s actually running the show, and I’m not ready to buy that piece of fiction. Obama’s making out the dinner menu, then delegating the preparation and service of those specific entrees to others.
One can’t say the man has an inefficient admin for his agenda, since there always manages to be a timely crisis to lend a helping hand to an unpopular piece of legislation or regulation. He also surrounds himself with those who are quick and at ease in ignoring court decisions (his SEC appointee), who don’t mind usurping bankruptcy laws and divvying up a company and bestowing ownership on the favored but undeserved (auto czar), and is now using his Goldman Sachs fiscal supporters as the convenient whipping boy to advance federal authority to take over any fiscally troubled company that is deemed too important to the US economy by an administrative appointee. Bet they rue the $994,794 they poured into that man’s pockets in 2008…. making them Obama’s second largest contributor following the U of CA. (Compare that one to Goldman’s McCain’s donation of $230,095)
Bottom line, I don’t think Obama’s losing it. I believe he’s content to be used as the master distractor for the media and public, while his minions work at accomplishing the laundry list of “change” in the background. Community organizers know they are more effective as a team, and Obama is very experienced as being the front man for a “team” …. enjoying the mouth piece, top salesman spot and enjoying the power and glory, while the others get their hands dirty.
@chicken thief…… 😆 😆 😆
The main concern now is how much damage will the Kenyan Usurper do before his strength is sapped at the November elections. Even after the elections, he may still try to maintain momentum by end-running the Congress and using the regulatory agencies to enact his agenda. At that point, the only thing that Congress can do is to de-fund the agencies and let them whither on the vine. If Congress won’t do the de-funding, then we’re in serious trouble: the same kind of trouble that Rome was in circa 450 AD
Skookum, I love your stories! Another job well done. I think you have him pegged exactly right. To top it all off he has his numerous codependents constantly fawning all over him and further inflating his massive ego. It frightens me to think that Joe Biden is just a padded room away from the Presidency!!
Great story with dire implications – what happens when a malignant narcissist acquires absolute power? Yes, power in all of its Orwellian cruelty and brutality. That’s why we must resist by every means, at any cost and with all of the art and skills we possess. History’s crystal clear as to where the road of absolute power leads. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for anyone now.
Those who now occupy the White house are monsters.
Skookum,
I try to read about every article I find on Flopping Aces, but I particularly gravitate to your stories. Although I’ve referenced many things from this site for items on my own blog, I don’t think I’d excerpted your work previously. That oversight is rectified with my post today.
Your stories always carry with them a wealth of adventure, and an invaluable moral. Thanks for “spreading the wealth”, sir.
Jeff
Ditto the others Sookum, another good story. I don’t think Obama has been tested yet though and in fact, I think he is feeling his oats and feels on top of the situation. I have no idea when the test will come or how the downfall will manifest itself , if ever. If your Chicago big-guy hadn’t pushed too far into an area where he had no support, he may never have broke.
We may not witness Obama getting his just deserts until after out of office or ever. Even Wm. Clinton hasn’t gotten his. Teddy Kennedy never got his. I fear that he’ll face a snap in office, but I don’t see it on the horizon. He’s an ideologue in full bloom and enjoying monkeying with our country.
He’ll stop at no law or precedent to overcome and GOP effort to slow him down. Any means to get the ends. He and his minions do not care for the fabric of governance in this country, nor do they hold our way of governance dear to their hearts. There are no brakes on the train….
This is like living a Greek tragedy though. I honestly don’t think they’ve got the people in place, who will say, no,.. we can’t go there or do that… too far. They are creating damage in the country, between the lefties and everyone else and the media and in the end, they’ll walk away and do speeches and take in lobbying fees and whatnot, as the GOP and rest of the country try to put back the pieces of our country.
Meanwhile, numerous families will have factions of lefties more enraged than ever, causing rifts between former friends and business partners, all based on extreme political ideology pushed to the brink. The Obama regime is history in the making. But a dark and upsetting history for our country. It will be years in the mending this one. …. and that’s the best-case scenario…
PS.. LOVE that picture of Mt. Robinson!!
Seems clear from the story that the Achilles heel was not so much pressure (how much pressure was the guy really under?) as solitude. It doesn’t surprise me. I imagine hunters and trappers get pretty used to being alone, but for most people traveling solo for even a few days in the back country is a strange and different experience. For a narcissist whose entire existence revolves around impressing, manipulating or blaming other people, I suppose that it would feel a bit like being in freefall.
Which implies to me that Obama is in no danger of a nervous breakdown (though it wouldn’t surprise me if a three day solo hike in the national park of your choice would induce one in him).
Skppkim you jumped off a pile of logs 30 feet high ? And I don;t understand why you were up there in the first place trying to “count” them ? from the top ? Why not count them from the side face that is the way we do it here, and where we measure them from to using a lumber log rule.
@MataHarley: I have to say I totally agree with you here on this one. I don’t think he will ever allow himself to be in a position to totally lose it. He plays it safe by making sure he is always surrounded by handlers that can bail him out. He wants to see a social revolution. He wants to be top man. I also think he is schooling himself for something he believes is even greater than being the US president. I think he truly believes that eventually the UN will be more powerful than the Us and he is sucking up to the people who are in power and who will eventually be in power. I think he is angling for a leadership position in the new world order that he envisions will be coming when the US falls from grace. It is after all about him.
The way he stands and holds his chin up in the air and talks over people, he reminds me of those old photos of Napoleon Bomaparte that you see.
Another great post, Skookum, I always love your use of well told narratives to support your point. Count me among those who want to read more of your work – do you have a blog of your own?
@Tammy:
Totally agreed.
SKOOKUM:very good story again;most every one has met a person like that;somewhere,in differents places and times,and not all get to witness their downfall;wich is most dramatic to see in a leader of less important business;but for a leader of a country this size;it is bringning the nation with him in the downfall,is not right,and seems to be unstopeble: thank’s bye 🙄
In 1975 we were in the North Sea, North of Scotland, just barely, we might have been in the Atlantic, we were on the divide . . . we had made an emergency tranist from our patrol station North of the Arctic Circle. The USS Daniel Boone SSBN-629 with Blue crew on-board. One of the crew had gotten sick and we had to make the transit or he would have died. The seas were rolling, the wind was blowing . . . State 8 minimum . . . sometimes State 9. We had two men in the sail, a lookout and officer of the deck . . . both required by maritime law since we were in the shippinig lanes between the UK and Norway. We took a rouge wave over the sail, pushed the boat down to 70 to 80 feet keel depth. The control room hatch was open to get up the trunk to where the men were in the sail.
The 31 degree sea water came through the hatch into the main control room in a raging torrent. Flooding downward from the upper to middle and finally into the lower level operations compartmen . . . amazing how much water and how fast it came on. The ships battery is in lower level ops . . . sea water and a submarines battery means death to the crew . . . Chlorine gas and hydrogen . . . death was moments away.
Men that you would normally expect to “rise” to the occasion did not. They froze like mannequins . . . some down on their knees . . . others standing, others leaning againist the bulkheads . . . over half the guys in lower level were frozen. We picked the guys up and used them as weights to hold down matteresses over the hatch leading into the battery well. The frozen men were essentially dead men . . . waiting only for their actually death . . . alive, frozen, hearts beating . . . but dead. (Most of these guys were in their underwear . . . lower level ops on the Boone was the 140 man bunk room . . . what a way to wake up, lol)
We have a President that finds himself in just such a position. He drools and kowtows, he looks important, to appear as if he is doing a job, yet . . . clearly when the shit hits the fan . . . he will be as frozen in place as the dead men of the North Sea.
HI TALLGRASS:wow that must have been scary,to be there,thank you;for that memory 🙄
Hello Bees;
There is much more to this story . . . just getting the water stopped meant we isolated the two men up in the sail, we had to close the hatch to stop the water from coming in to the boat. Two guys up in the sail, state 8/9 seas, we had no communications with them . . . we did not know if they were alive or lost at sea . . . they did survive . . . but the story of their ordeal . . . ah . . . God smiled at US all that day.
Thanks @Tammy and @JanH. I was beginning to think I was the only one who saw Obama as the privileged dummy to the community organizer ventroloquist.
His part of the “change” is really quite simple… have TOTUS feed him the talking points script, and pour on the charm to the public to keep the momentum going… but without the help of the Greek columns.
Whether he falls victim to his own gilded image in his own mind is, of course, his own thing. That’s a family issue. But those around him will prop him up just fine to be the paid spokesman. And when the media gets him upset, they’ll simply do a diversion to protect his self-perception. I suspect he’ll weather it all just fine.
The question is, will we, and or posterity, do the same?
HI MATA:you figure it right;he must be getting up in the morning and tell his wife”my people are waiting ” bye 🙄
@Bees.. when Obama says “My people are waiting”… do you suppose he’s talking about his caddy?
@ Donald: You are only partially correct. There are three more players in the foursome and four caddies. I’d say he has seven people waiting on him. If only one caddy was waiting on him, he would say, “My person is waiting on me” and that sounds like bondage. With 34 rounds, since he was sworn in, I think he might be playing more than Tiger, at least on the Golf course.
I wonder how much a President can improve his game in four years? If he gets busy, he can play a hundred rounds in four years at this rate. Hubba Hubba! We might repeal Nationalized Health Care, but we can’t do much about his improved golf handicap! Some things are G-d given rights!
Mata, this would have made a great script for a screen play; but we had to go and ruin the whole deal by living out this bizarre plot. The protasis was the kicker, the public’s willingness to sell out their birthright to swoon over a huckster and a cabal of radicals. The peripeteia or reversal of fortune is unraveling and becoming more apparent: to what extent?- we, who are but extras, are paid day money, we don’t get a script; but, Obama doesn’t have a script either!
Will his pride withstand rejection by independents and moderate Dems or will he be consoled with Socialists, teen aged ideologues, radicals, and the semi-literate. We have no choice, we are a captive audience watching the drama play out. I await Obama’s villainous soliloquy, delivered in his measured and clipped lilting speech rather than the thoughtful introspection of poor mad Hamlet; yet haunting in its bewildering periphrasis and circumlocution, a mild form of madness he is already exhibiting.
No we cannot expect to hear:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die: to sleep:
No we shall decipher ghetto logic and Harvard elocution, the essence, shallow as it is, that is the Obama myth. Still, I wait for the soliloquy, be it of madness or not, for in his defeat and humiliation, there might be a measure of wisdom to rationalize this absurd experiment.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely
The pangs of despis’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
The patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
John Ryan, we probably had 40 truckloads of logs, in eight decks along the road. I wasn’t a commercial logger, we had a head saw at the ranch and made our own cants and lumber, everything from 8 x 12’s to 2 x 4’s. We didn’t have a planer, it was all rough cut. We had a neighbor about ten miles away who could plane 2 x 8 T & G for us and that is what we used on floors and ceilings, we built heavy duty and that is partially how I came by my nick name, Skookum.
You are right, we shouldn’t have been on top of a deck, we were young and trying to figure how many truckloads we had; my family had been using the bunks and loading area for several years, I felt safe. A big mistake. I had no idea that you knew about logging. I was a rank amateur who managed not to get killed. There were many pros in the area and they were really good. One of my neighbors was supposed to be one of the best old time fallers. He taught me to fall with a two man crosscut and an ax. He said many fallers would still be alive if they had learned that way. It’s been twenty five years since I last logged; but I feel confident I could still get the job done. There is another logger that comes on the site now and then, he started skidding with horses as a boy and likes to talk about logging and horses.
Like I said, I was an amateur, we usually logged in the winter, if we planned to build something the next summer, we would trade the left over lumber for heifers and colts. It was hard work,but I enjoyed the work. We never used any devices to estimate lumber. The 30 inch head saw is pretty slow, but if you can keep logs on the deck you can saw a lot of lumber, especially cants or timbers.
bbartlog: You have described one of the major causes of insanity in the North, solitude. Some people can deal with it and some can’t. I think some people feel alone, even if they are with their spouse or partner. The generic name for the condition is called cabin fever and it is laughed about between people and often a trip to town for a blow out is prescribed.
It s doubtful that the Pres. will ever be subjected to solitude; but he is under extreme pressure and that could increase exponentially by natural catastrophe or attack. Hopefully, America will avoid such horrors, but the possibility is always there.
In my opinion, a person who has been tested under severe duress and performed admirably is a more logical candidate for the Presidency. That does not preclude military men, but I thn America will be considering more military men in the future.
Yet in the post of Tallgrass, those men who locked up had all passed a strenuous battery of psychological tests to be a submariner and yet, they still failed in an emergency. Surely the constant pressure of living so close to death weighed heavily on their psychological state and contributed to their breakdown’s.
President Obama has never been tested in a grave situation, at least that we are aware of. He ma do fine; but how do we know?
Solitude and complete silence is only one type of psychological pressure, there must be many others. I can endure loneliness and silence for long periods of time with no ill-effects; my pressure comes from being in over crowded conditions. I am very nervous at athletic events with thousands of people or in large cities; those conditions might push me around the bend. We have no idea the limitations of other people, we are lucky to understand our own limitations.
Maybe President Obama can withstand extreme pressure, you are probably convinced that he is of sound psychological ability. I hope you are right, especially if the situation becomes grim in the future.
Yippie 21, My intention was to give two hunters the best hunt possible under the conditions. I didn’t think it was possible a man could fall apart in an hour; but people will surprise you.
Certainly, the president is making many Americans feel as though his main object is his agenda rather than the security of the country and our allies. This will hurt the Democrat Party, it may well destroy the Democrat Party. Yet he seems oblivious to the damage his arrogance and Narcissism is causing the Democrat Party to implode. This lack of empathy and common sense is a prerequsite to insanity
Chicken Thief, I just looked up the Darwin Awards, that is too funny. Yes it might have been better to let nature take its course; but like Al Gore I had to go be a hero and save the world, well maybe just Mr. Big.
I was an idealist as a young man, not an ideologue, an idealist. Years later, I had a British Hunter who required a lot of attention and hand holding, he had to waste oil keeping a lantern going all night. I asked him if he wanted to see the bear that was going to eat him, as a joke, and made his fear even worse.
He decided he wanted to go home early; but the river was in flood and I didn’t really want to cross it until the flood had receded in a day or two. He insisted that we cross that day; so I told him to stay directly behind me; because my saddle mare and I had crossed a lot of wild rivers and we would move carefully to stay alive. We only had about 20 feet to go and there was deep channel between us and the shore; I turned upstream and was following a nice gravel bar in three feet of water. Eventually, I would come to a good place to finish the ford. My Englishman couldn’t take it anymore and decided to finish the crossing on his own volition; he was swept down stream in a matter of seconds. His horse fought bravely to climb the bank; but it was too steep with nothing but soft shale and the horse lost his strength and they were headed downstream to the peace at a fairly good rate. One of the other guides gathered down the gravel bar and caught the Brit’s horse’s bridle and pulled them back on the the gravel bar. The Brit was ready to cross the slow and boring way now.
It’s funny, I didn’t make an effort to help. My other guide asked me why, and I asked him why he saved him. I know I wasn’t being a good Christian, but you reach a point with someone, where you just tired of the stupidity.
@Skookum… My one remaining brain cell (that isn’t currently on vacation) thanks you for the correction on the misplaced plurality. Maybe The Zero knows something we don’t.. maybe in the future, nuclear conflicts will be decided by a round of G.entlemen O.nly L.adies F.orbidden
Donald, you and I are near the same age and we witnessed the integration of women into formerly exclusive male bastions; yes, it was literally a female invasion of not just Golf, but an intrusion into every male enclave of culture; not only did we surrender our exclusivity, but our behavior had to be modified to accommodate feminine wiles and a protocol so unnatural to the primeval instincts of the vestal and pristine image men had of themselves; we were expected to leap blindly into the chasm of political correctness and accept without question the abysmal loss of that once great and flourishing aspect of culture, male exclusivity; a fact that has left younger generations of men wandering through life with feelings of bewilderment and abandonment, searching for vague and now dubious entitlements of male exclusivity: and for what we ask, so that we may play mixed foursomes?- oh how sad, that we must sacrifice our most humble and our most basic precepts of culture to partake of this profane concept of political correctness. Especially for you and I, who only use golf balls as missiles to be thrown at invisible targets that are never missed. 😉
Randy, your post was haunting me all through the day. I saw several men break down in the military, mainly during training, and that is a major purpose of training, to find the Mr. Bigs as early as possible. Friends of mine who assisted with training officers told me that the officer training was, in some respects, more challenging than the enlisted man’s training. The fact is that people are sometimes not cut out for leadership; either by a mind that wasn’t physically wired to handle stress or by an environment during childhood that weakened rather than nurtured the psyche.
This is almost impossible to observe in a casual situation: I would never have left Mr. Big alone if I had known the nature of his mental weaknesses. The weak minded person is often very clever at hiding his true nature, he has spent a life time compensating; now, I tend to recognize the self-promoting braggart and superior personality as one of the most weakened personalities. Much like the loud aggressive personality in a bar is exhibiting a protective mechanism to keep from betraying cowardice and a low sense self-confidence. The general rule is beware of those who feel the need to impress you, for this need belies a severe personality defect.
It’s nice to hear that you are collecting those stories, too many are lost and forgotten and our younger generations need connections to the past, especially now, more than ever!
@Skookum… well said. I’m from the “Quest for Fire” school… I love the women in my life but I would be fairly content with a courting process that involved a large piece of lumber, a river, and a crowd of the meeker gender beating hides with rocks. Now… just between you and me, because no good could come of this if it got out to the general public; I sometimes wonder if the natural propensity of women to seek security, in their choices of mates and other life decisions, as part of their maternal instincts, hasn’t in some small way heralded the growth of the nanny state and the progressive agenda. After all… one only has to look at the Harry Reid polls in Nevada for anecdotal evidence.
Remember… the above is just between you and me.
the female intuition is hard to denye:they are first aware of destructives laws, that are dangerous for ,first their close family ,and furthermore danger to theirs countrys:so they are the first to rises against unfairness;and start the work of correcting the situation,follow by the men who move in to support the whole country .IS IN IT nice to love them for that?.
Yes and to love them for other things as well, women can function like horses in a hunting camp, especially at night. I have always tied my horses to trees around the perimeter of camp, while I sleep. That decreases the chances of a bear sneaking into camp and dragging my macho body from its peaceful slumbers; for if a bear tries to sneak too close to a horse, the horse will scream like a woman and you will be wide awake in a second or less. So you see Bees, women can be extremely useful in modern society as the watchdogs while we men sleep and deal with more important matters. And now we know why G-d gave women and horses the ability to scream like they do occasionally.
Donald, I see that your powers of observation and analysis have a perspicuity that can be said to be at least equal to mine; congratulations, it is an honor to blog with you, sir. I think you may have stumbled on to a fact of modern society that equals that of the double helix formation of DNA. I marvel at our intellect and wonder what new secrets of the Universe the two of us acting as two well drilled paddlers in a leaky canoe can fathom while shooting the wild rapids of life.
Never in my life, or at least before the onset of puberty, have I felt the need of the comforting hand of a nanny or to feel the embrace of an all knowing, all caring embrace of Uncle Sam or Aunt Sammy. Now the men with male plumbing and effeminate mannerisms ask us to welcome such affections; I say, “to hell with that”, I still have all my teeth and enjoy a little splendor in the grass now and then, and I still consider myself a fairly dangerous man. I don’t want Uncle Sam to become an overly affectionate perverted relative who slobbers on me and is too Liberal with his hands!
Don’t worry Don, I know sensitive material when I see it; your secrets are safe with me; I carry them to the grave.
@Skookum… I thank you for your pledge of silence. I’m afraid if MataHarley were to find out about my secret musings I might be eviserated in short order.
I only wish that I too was still in command of all my teeth. Those early years in Canada, and the fact that hockey was substituted for baseball left me a couple of anterior chompers short. Who’d have thunk that a simple thing like a mask could have circumvented my loss. My only consolation is that Canadian dentists were very apt at putting teeth that had once been lying about a frozen rink back into young athlete’s skulls. I managed to keep two of the four that had been removed by a hockey puck for an additional 40 years before they succumbed. The other two are still firmly implanted even though every American dentist I have ever seen has tried to have them pulled because they are clinically dead… hey they still work even if they aren’t still alive. (hmmmm… zombie teeth)
I sure do miss playing hockey… now there’s a man’s sport!
Yes Donald, hockey is a man’s sport; I like to think of it as team golf on ice, with no sand traps. Sorry to hear about your dental problems, you can imagine the shock, when the first goalie wore a face mask, I though the game had gone to Hell; it has also been an anchor to the economy, the face mask took a huge bite out of the income of Canadian Dentists.
Don’t fret over Mata, she will find, more important issues with us than this violation of the inner sanctum of feminism. Think of the horses tied to trees around camp and sleep peacefully.
SKOOKUM AND DONALD: don’t wory;I can keep a secret forever;and ever. bye 🙄
“pledge of silence….” “secrets”….. 😆
Donald, I swear you and Skook never cease to entertain! Ya know, if you didn’t want your “conk ’em over the head and drag ’em into the cave” mentality to hit the “general public”, I’d suggest a public forum ain’t quite what you’re looking for with the chit chat, guys. heh
But fear no repercussions from me. I never mind that “conk ’em over the head” bit as long as the conker can do a better job of taking care of me than I do. I always give due respect and adoration for superior survival skills, and realize that generally those skills merge and blend between people… often based on gender and their rearing.
As the infamous verbal exchange between Anne Heche and Harrison Ford in Six Days and Seven Nights perfectly illustrates… sorta ….
But those “guys with skills” are far and few inbetween with today’s modern men. Hang, when your greatest skill is how to use a cell phone for help, I’m as handy as the best of ’em! Not to mention I’ve gotten down right adept at DIY home improvement.
And more on the less serious side of life – the relationships between the genders: one of my best guy friends always love to tell me that the nation went to hell-in-a-handbasket when they gave women the vote. Sometimes I look around and wonder if he isn’t on to something.
Other times I look around at modern men and wonder if sufferagettes led to even the male species being ineptly educated to voting.
Then I finally look around and figure out, it’s just humans in general.
MATA:i never read you so funny,they where so scared of your reaction;bye 🙄
Well Bees, actually I’m known in many personal circles for my acerbic sense of humor. Unfortunately, when it comes to politics, there is little that’s amusing these days, eh?
So you can thank those charming male chauvinists – Donald and Skook – for a bit more personal insight. The moment demanded it, ya know.
@ Bees…. tell the truth Bees… it was you that spilt your guts to MataHarley.
I gotta admit, I’m pretty handy in a lot of areas, but I surely wouldn’t want to be going through this life without my better half and she’d probably starve to death without me around to do all the cooking…. The thought of having to hunt down a replacement for her gives me the willies… I’d probably bonk the wrong one on the noggin and end up with a looker that was a raving leftist loon. I think I’ll stick to my conservative wifey who votes properly – she’s the best! Either that or she’s just loopier than a fruit cake after a quarter century plus of putting up with me and has forgotten that she could show me the door in an instant. Just in case, I do have a nice freeway underpass all picked out!
I probably can’t build a shopping center with just a pocket knife and a q-tip, but I can at least find one… my wife’s directionally challenged.
DONALD:i don’t know what i would do without your humor ,MATA was very funny ,so serious all the times;i could envisage,giving her the top job in the WHITE HOUSE;how good it would feel for the people,having FA in there,;CURT would have to hire some to help the post going;and AYE would send the boomareng to the leftists totalitarians;i could help on asking them questions;MIKE would have a grand serious complicated job,in there,we would ask OT to join in…we have all the group ready ;and i would not tell any secrets to the MEDA for sure,bye and regards to your wife… 🙄
I sincerely hope that he does break down. That it is soon—before he has chance to do REAL harm, that it is loud, and that it is impossible to ignore. It will be the immortalized symbol of the failure of a psychotic sociopolitical philosophy: an image of the fall of tyranny to rival that of the Berlin Wall coming down.
I just read on the link from DIAMOND GIRL for DEMINT”that the next agenda obama is immigration” 🙄
I don’t wish for him to have a psychological breakdown or an emotional collapse. I just hope that people will realize that he is an empty suit and vote down his power before he can do any more damage than he has already done and I am praying that our allies will understand that this is not the will of American people. I find it difficult to believe that even the hard core left would prefer we have good relationships with Islams and ditch the Europeans. I thought they want us to be like Europeans. That means having a good relationship with them too. Or maybe I am just giving them too much credit. Maybe they are not thinking. Maybe they want change because they are tired of the same old and they haven’t really thought about what they want to change into.
SKOOKUM:hi,are you working again?or working on your book?;or having a glass of cabernet?;happy” EARTHDAY’.bye 🙄